


Signor Antonio Carbonell

by Author_Incognito



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Sick Peter, Tony is peter's emergency contact
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:39:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23357113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_Incognito/pseuds/Author_Incognito
Summary: In which Peter gets sick at school and has to get Tony to come and pick him up, except it’s not exactly Tony’s name on the emergency contact list.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 275





	Signor Antonio Carbonell

Peter should have known that he was ill the moment he woke up at five am with an aching headache. But despite how lousy he felt he somehow managed to convince May (and himself) that he was perfectly fine. His immune system didn’t seem to agree, however, because by third period his headache was now a hammer pounding into his skull and he was using all his concentration to keep his stomach contents within his body. 

He swallowed convulsively as his teacher droned on and on about the roaring twenties. Peter moaned and laid his head down on his desk, hoping that the coolness of it would somehow make him feel better. It didn’t. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ned staring at him, worried. Peter wished that he could send a small smile his way, but he didn’t think he had the energy to blink let alone smile.

“Mr. Parker!” His teacher shouted, causing Peter to practically jump out of his seat. 

“Huh?” He mumbled, barely lifting his head up to blink wearily at the teacher standing firm in front of his desk.

“Would you like to tell us how the events of the roaring twenties led into the great depression, or shall I.” The teacher questioned, a grimace souring his face.

“I-” Oh no. That was a mistake. Peter jumped to his feet, nearly knocking over his neighbor’s laptop in his haste. Something was about to come out of his mouth, and it wasn’t a detailed response to what his teacher had asked him. 

He fled out of the classroom and into the empty halls, the corridor feeling longer than he could ever remember as he hurried his way to the restroom. Peter barely had time to be thankful that he was alone when he slammed down near the closest stall, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as his breakfast and his dinner from the night before made an unwelcome reappearance in the toilet. 

“Dude!” Peter heard Ned exclaim as he entered the restroom with Peter’s laptop and backpack, having followed Peter out of the classroom. “Are you okay? You looked like you were about to hurl all over your-” His eyes fell toward Peter’s shaking form. “Oh my god, Peter are you okay.” 

Peter spat into the toilet and shook his head. “No. I think I’m sick.” Peter told him, accepting the fact like he should have done at the crack of dawn. 

“But I thought that spider bite prevented you from getting ill?” 

Peter sighed and got up off of the dirty floor tiles, grateful that the nausea had quelled at least for the time being. “Apparently we were both wrong.” He stumbled his way over to Ned, who handed him his stuff that he’d forgotten in the classroom.. “Thanks.

“No problem. I’ll take you to the nurse.” Ned offered as they walked out of the restroom.

“No, no, no. You should probably get back to class. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, just tell the teacher I got sick and I’m going to the nurse, okay.” 

Ned hesitated. “Okay, but text me when you get home.” 

“Yeah, I will.” Peter reassured him as he turned around and began to make his way to the nurse’s office. 

By the time he’d got there his headache had returned with a vengeance and waves of nausea were starting to roll his stomach once more. “Um, I think I need to call my aunt.” He said, sitting down in one of the plush seats and setting his stuff on the floor beside him.

The nurse looked up from her desk. “Okay sweetie, what’s wrong, are you ill?” She asked, digging a thermometer out of her drawers. 

“Yeah.” Peter managed to choke out as she walked over and took his temperature.

“One-oh-one.” She tutted and walked back over to her desk.

“Okay what’s your name?” She asked as she began to look through the files on her desk.

“Peter Parker.”

“All right, I’m gonna give her a call. You just sit right there.” 

Peter moaned and put his head in his hands, focusing all his energy on not puking on the floor. 

“Peter. Peter!” Peter jolted and looked up. “Your aunt isn’t answering. Is there anybody else I can call?” 

“Yeah, um, try Tony. I’m really sorry but can I …” He trailed off, pointing towards the bathroom. 

“Yes, go ahead.” Peter was out of the seat before she even finished that sentence, running to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him this time.

He sat in front of the toilet for what felt like an hour, the only interruption being the nurse coming by the door and telling him that Tony was going to come and pick him up. His only response to her had been more vomiting.

After a few more minutes he heard voices outside the door, and Peter turned his head as it began to open.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me.” Peter groaned as he looked up at the doorway from his safe haven that was the nurse’s toilet. 

Before him stood Tony Stark. But it wasn’t Tony Stark like he’d ever seen before. His hair was a light shade of blond and blue eyes were hidden behind wire-framed glasses. The trademarked beard that he’d possessed since before Peter was born was nowhere in sight. 

Peter stared and blinked and just when he thought that there was no way that things could get any stranger Tony opened his mouth and began to speak. In a flawless Italian accent. 

“Hey, kid. You ready to go or do you think you’re gonna upchuck anymore?” Tony asked. 

“I’m-,” Peter shook his head, trying to clear it because what he was seeing and hearing could not be real. “I’m confused. Am I hallucinating right now?”

Concern immediately washed over Tony’s features and he sprinted towards Peter’s side. “Are you hurt?” He asked, dropping the Italian accent as he felt his head and looked into his pupils. “They just said that you were sick. They didn’t say anything about you being injured. C’mon follow my finger.” Tony slowly began to move his index finger in front of Peter’s face.”

“What? No. No!” Peter exclaimed, jerking away from Tony’s hold. “I’m not hurt. It’s just … you’re blond. And your beard’s gone.” Peter remarked, dumbfounded. 

“Oh yeah that.” Tony said, as if he’d forgotten about it. “It’s part of my disguise.” 

“Disguise?” 

“Yeah, I can’t just walk into your school as Tony Stark, now can I.” Tony replied, sitting down beside Peter.

“Tony,” Peter said slowly. “You are Tony Stark.”

Tony snorted out a laugh. “Not to your school I’m not. To them I am Signor Antonio Carbonell, an Italian engineer who’s a friend of your aunt.”

Silence hung over them, allowing Peter to clearly hear the sound of several students rushing to their next class. “What?” 

“Well me and your aunt agreed that it wouldn’t be a good idea to have my name down on your emergency contact list. God could you imagine what the press would do if they found out about it? They’d be on you like a pack of dogs. So I suggested to her to put a pseudonym down for me. So now I’m officially Antonio Carbonell to your entire school. Well, except for your principal. May said we at least had to tell him.” Tony frowned and Peter knew that if it’d been his way absolutely no one would have known about this arrangement.

“But … Why is your beard gone?” Peter inquired, still stuck on that one aspect.

Tony laughed. “I’m glad that that’s what you’re concerned about in this entire situation. “You see this.” He pointed at his face. “This is going to be the biggest sacrifice I’m ever going to make for you. I can’t go out in public for weeks now. _Weeks_.” 

Peter didn’t know how to respond to that. “I’m sorry?” 

Tony shrugged and stood up. “Nah, it’s fine. It’ll grow back in no time anyway.” He clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Now what do you say we get out of here? This wig is itchin’ like crazy and I’m pretty sure that having a combination of contacts and glasses over your eyes can’t be good for your eyesight.” 

“Uh, yeah, sure, ok.” Peter stuttered, not making any indication that he was about to move. “Uh, I guess I’d ought to get up now, shouldn’t I?” 

Tony nodded. “Yeah that’d be a smart idea.” He held out his hand. “C’mon kid, let’s get you outta here.” 

Peter took it without another word.

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me on tumblr at stark-tony


End file.
